Harry Potter and the City of Masks
by Josephine Taylor
Chapter Eight
'Hey, what's going on?'
Harry had transported to Rodolfo's rooms in the morning hours as usual, but what was unusual was that there was no one there. Every time since his first few translations Rodoflo (or sometimes even Matteo or Luciano) would have been there to greet him and inform him of some new development or new experiment that they wanted to try. Not today. Today the room was empty. Something felt wrong.
Deciding to go and find out what was going on Harry let himself out of the laboratory and down through the house. now he came to think about it, something had felt wrong between the Bellezzan's the previous evening. Like something other than the Duchessa's missing child had been on their minds.
Entering the street below, Harry looked up at the sky in surprise. It was the first overcast day that he had seen in Talia and if he didn't know any better he would have said that the houses looked just like they would have done in London.
Gazing down the street Harry's anxiety increased as he sensed the mood of the people on the streets. Everything was subdued and no one was running or laughing or even talking quietly. Instead of the usual displays of colours that the lagooners where so fond of wearing, everyone one was dressed in various shades of grey and black. Mourning colours.
Stopping a passer by, Harry asked urgently; 'What has happened?' But the man wouldn't say anything, just shook his head and continued on his way. Frowning, Harry decides to find Matteo to settle the matter once and for all.
Knocking on Matteo's wooden door, the young man answered, dressed like everyone else, in black. Seeing Harry on his doorstep, Matteo's eyes widened in shock for a second before settling back to the mournful tone that had occupied them. Gesturing for the wizard to enter he led Harry through the house to the kitchen.
After some prodding on Harry's part, he was able to get the story out of Matteo.
'Last night Signor Rossi got a message that ... that the Dottore was dreadfully ill.' Harry frowned, he'd never heard of the 'Dottore' but didn't want to interrupt his friend. Matteo twiddled his thumbs as he continued. 'He made it known to Luciano about the Dottore's condition. This morning it was made publicly known that he had died in Giglia.'
Matteo covered his face, the image of defeat and shock. Harry patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. You'd think that after battling Voldemort for 8 years, Harry would have been used to death and grievances, but the truth was he found it as hard as the next person.
'Who was this 'Dottore'? He must have been greatly loved for the whole city to go into mourning.'
Matteo nodded and gulped. 'He was. The Dottore was Luciano's foster-father and ... the founder of the Brotherhood...'
Harry stared at Matteo in shock. The Dottore was William Detheridge? The William Dethridge who had founded the Stravanganti Brotherhood? Harry had never met the man, but had felt a sense of connection to the man that had once belonged to his England.
As they sat there, both dwelling in his own thoughts, something occurred to Harry. Something didn't feel right. It felt like something had shifted in the atmosphere, a gathering storm that when broke (and he felt sooner than they would have liked) would be like nothing they had seen before.
--------
Rain pattered on the closed window of the Ducal Palazzo. Gazing out of the window overlooking the Piazza Maddalena, Luciano ran a hand through the loose curls about his head, so much like the child he was looking for, like the mother he had lost and an echo of what his foster-father's had been like. Luciano closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
Voices murmured throughout the grand hall. People dressed in black milled around, talking in lowered tones and sneaking glances across the room at the young Duke, stood alone by the window. The Duchessa, whilst in light conversation with the Ambassador from Romula, kept looking at her husband. Eventually she excused herself from the Ambassador to stand by Luciano.
Taking his hand, she stood silently by him. Everything they held dear was being taken away from them, but whilst Viola was lost, Detheridge was gone forever. The Ducal pair were not sure how much more they could take.
A movement from the door and Rodolfo stepped through. 'It's time.'
--------
Harry and Matteo lined the banks of the main canal, along with hundreds of Bellezzan Citizens. Many of the woman were weeping as the funeral Mandola sculled passed. Together, Harry and Matteo, swept off their hats and watched solemnly as the funeral progressed passed.
Harry's heart went out to Luciano, who stood in the mandola behind Detheridge's coffin in his role of chief mourner. It was bad enough losing one set of parents without loosing another. And for it to happen whilst in the middle of searching for your missing child, Harry could only sympathise.
'I feel for the young Duke.' A woman, heavily veiled in black, murmured standing a few people away from the stravaganti. Harry took a closer look at the Ducal pair. Arianna held her husbands hand tightly, and her eyes were oddly distant, but not a drop of tear spilled from them.
A woman, who Harry was told was Loretta, William Detheridge's wife, cried steadily behind them.
---------
A young man, wrapped in a blue cloak, leaned casually against the wall, watching the funeral progression with only mild interest. As the Ducal Mandola swept passed, a smirk flittered about the mans mouth.
A whisper a few feet away caught his attention. 'The poor Duchessa. first time out in public since her young Viola taken and it had to be a funeral!'
The blue man's eye's glittered smugly as he faded back into the shadows and disappeared in a flick of his cloak.
---------
'To William Detheridge, may god rest his soul.'
Glasses were raised high as everyone gathered in the Duchessa's rooms drank to the departed Stravangant. The Duchessa and Duke had not attended the public wake in the palazzo, and instead had retired to their rooms where they were joined by a small party.
'I shall miss the Dottore. He was a good man.'
The comment came from a short, dark skinned man to Harry's left. Upon arriving that the Palazzo Harry had been surprised to find that instead of just Rodolfo, Matteo, Luciano and Arianna, there were several other people as well.
'He was good to us all, Brother Sulien.' Harry stared at the woman opposite him and thought again how alike Rodolfo's new bride and his daughter were alike. A red-headed young man, leant over her shoulder and whispered something in her ear. She glanced at Harry and smiled. 'It is a shame you could never of met him, young Stravangant. He would have liked you.' She smiled sadly and crossed the room to stand by her husband.
Harry breathed a deep sigh and squirmed in his seat. Although he knew that he must leave soon, a growing fear in him told him not too, too stay safe in Bellezza. He didn't want to face what might be awaiting him back home.
--------
Awaking in his own bed, Harry kept his eyes closed for a few more minutes, digesting all the new information that he had received through the night in Bellezza. Slowly his senses turned outward. At first everything seemed normal. Opening his eyes he rolled over and immediately caught sight of two hooded figures at the entrance to his room.
Harry gave a loud yell and reached for his wand.
A/N - ahahahaha cliff hanger! sorta ... anyways. Hope your all well, and all enjoying this. As always, please review on your comments to make this better or where you think it could be heading, suggestions for where it could head etc. Thanks.